Blue
by Graywing the Wise
Summary: Her eyes gaze up at the sickeningly blue sky, as she wonders just how the color she saw every day hovering over her, completely innocent, had become the very color that she had to target. Blue armbands, blue shirts, blue blue blue.


**A Divergent Fan Fiction**

**Blue**

**By Graywing the Wise**

* * *

_How the hell did I end up here?_

Lynn moans as she struggles to sit up. She is supposed to be Dauntless, dammit. Dauntless don't just fall over and die from one bullet. They get up and they keep fighting until their job is done – her intention is to do just this. The girl is Dauntless through and through.

Her hands, slick with blood, shove against the rough concrete under her. Once she manages to make it to a sitting position, she permits herself a thirty second rest. The pain in her abdomen throbs dully at her.

_Shut up._

Lynn takes in her surroundings. With a smirk, she looks at the three Dauntless she killed, their blue armbands darkened with blood. There are more scattered on the streets, some sadly lacking the armband that labeled them as traitors, but those three are the ones who died by her own hand – more accurately, her own bullet. After the simulation ended, she woke with a vengeance and shot at everyone who happened to be in sight.

Her eyes gaze up at the sickeningly blue sky, as she wonders just how the color she saw every day hovering over her, completely innocent, had become the very color that she had to target. Blue armbands, blue shirts, blue blue blue.

Such an innocuous color, really. Always soft and subtle. Never intruding, never demanding. Just there, above you in an endless expanse of beauty. Lynn sighs as she grasps at the few memories she has of Marlene's vibrant eyes. They were blue, soft and caring and always alight with happiness . . .

She shakes her head vigorously, ridding herself of such thoughts. Now is not the time to think of her. She scolds herself harshly as she remembers that she was only supposed to take a thirty second break to breathe a few times, not a two minute break to depress the hell out of everyone.

Glancing around, she reminds herself that there is no "everyone". Just her and her pathetically un-Dauntless self, at the moment.

Ignoring her abdomen crying out in protest, she gathers her legs under her, getting ready to stand. Lynn winces as her hands come away from the concrete with an audible rip, as if the blood had fused and dried to the hot ground.

_Gross._

The journey to a standing position is the hardest she's ever had to make. Lynn wobbles and falls back to the ground several times, her teeth gritted furiously against the inevitable scream of frustration.

But she makes it, after her sixth try.

Only when she's standing does she know how badly wounded she is. When you are shot somewhere – be it your arm or your leg or your stomach – the pain isn't supposed to travel throughout your entire body. However, that's exactly what hers did.

Lynn's traitorous body is being consumed by one measly bullet. How _weak. _Her upper-lip curls in disgust at her own self, as she forces her feet to shuffle forward. Step by agonizing step, she travels to the only real hope she has left – the Erudite headquarters. It's only two blocks away. She has walked much farther without tiring.

The building is only twenty feet away when she finally accepts that she cannot walk any farther. Her breath whooshing out of her in a defeated sob, she collapses to the pavement and awaits death. Black spots claw at the edges of her vision. She has to blink several times before they recede.

Then her eyes close.

Lynn does not know how long she has been laying there, pathetically wishing that death will not be painful, when her body is moved. Moaning softly, she is vaguely aware of a rocking sensation before she is placed on a flat, relatively soft surface.

The pain is all-consuming, burning through her small body and ripping shivers from her being. She curses herself for every single shudder, hating her weakness – yet hating herself even more for being unable to stop it. Her hands curl around her stomach, trying futilely to staunch the bleeding and numb the pain.

She is aware of a drop in temperature, and the light shining through her eyelids lessens. Lynn assumes that she has finally entered the Erudite headquarters. She forces her eyes open. She gazes around the room, fascinated by the dark spot that seems to hover everywhere she looks. Blinking, she realizes that the dark spot is only a weakness in her own vision, and she scowls at it.

"Lynn!"

She is startled by the shout, eyes flicking in that direction against her will, for she had been brought up responding to that name. The slight movement her head makes as she does this causes a deep ache to rush through her neck. Lynn flinches.

_What the hell. I wasn't shot in the neck, dammit. _

There's a few sharp words said, and she watches as the ceiling inexplicably rises. With a soft thump, she figures that the ceiling wasn't rising – she was falling.

_That makes a bit more sense._

Accompanying the thump is a flash of grayed hair above her, blocking her vision and making her frown. Lynn feels like she should really have her gun on her, especially when a scary-looking woman dressed in blue is looming over her. But she doesn't know where it is, and her head is in too much pain for her to remember.

"My dear," the woman says, and Lynn's eyes flash back up to her face. She is startled and a bit disgusted with the term of endearment, but before she can say so, the woman continues speaking. "Please remove your hands from your wound."

Lynn would really rather not right now. "I can't," she moans, hating herself for the whiny voice that passes between her lips. "It hurts." That is an understatement, really. Not only does it hurt – it throbs, it aches, it stings, it bites, it _burns_. She manages to keep from saying all of this, however, for her point was made well enough in the four words she did say.

"I am aware that it hurts. But I won't be able to assess your wound if you do not reveal it to me," the blue-clad woman presses, her lips flattening into a thin line that captivates Lynn. How many times must one press their lips together before they flatten so easily?

Her hands are being pulled away from her abdomen, and she has to bite back a scream at the wave of agony it sends through her. Lynn barely has time to breathe before her shirt is being pulled up, heavy and dark with her own blood.

The look on the Erudite woman's face as she assesses the damage is less than comforting.

"Fix her!" the harsh exclamation comes from her left, and she looks over to see Uriah glaring at the gray-haired woman. "You can fix her, so do it!" he continues, his breathing growing increasingly ragged with each passing moment.

There's a brief argument above Lynn concerning the destruction of the hospitals. She pays attention only to jump in and snap at somebody at the correct time. Like always, Uriah is the one to get snapped at.

"Uri," she says, her voice noticeably weaker than it was before. She swallows back a scowl, before speaking again. "Shut up. It's too late."

All the fight flees from him, his eyes darkening heavily as he grabs at her hand. Lynn wants nothing more than to smack the quiver right out of his lip. She can hear a murmur off to her right, before a few Dauntless traitors part and reveal Tris. The blonde girl rushes to Lynn's side and claims her other hand.

Lynn vaguely wonders how they manage to clutch so desperately at her bloody hands without getting disgusted.

Her eyes find Uriah's. "I'm just glad I didn't die while under the simulation." The words come out weak and hoarse, barely managing to breeze past her cracked lips. As she stares up at Uriah, she wonders how she could ever have thought she hated him. With a small shudder, Marlene's eyes make their way into her mind again.

"You're not gonna die now," he responds harshly, as if merely convincing her of that would magically make it come true.

Lynn suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. The darkness in her vision is growing heavier, leaking farther and farther until she has to look straight at him to see. "Don't be stupid. Uri, listen. I loved her too. I did."

She has to tell somebody of how she felt for the curly-haired, soft-eyed, wild girl who had captured her heart. Leaving the world without anybody knowing seemed like such a waste, a pity. If she wanted to be remembered for one thing, it was for that.

"You loved who?" his voice breaks. Lynn knows that he knows exactly who she's talking about.

"Marlene." The name somehow makes her lips tingle, as if even saying it is forbidden.

"Yeah, we all loved Marlene." Lynn can tell by the look in his eyes that he doesn't really want to hear this, not from her.

"No, that's not what I mean." Another wave of pain races through her as her head shakes back and forth. There's a ringing in her ears. She doesn't want to cause Uriah any more pain, so she doesn't say anything more.

Her eyes close. Lynn is so very cold.

The last thing she sees is an endless haze of blue.


End file.
